Page 12

Chapter 12

Early February 1911

‘Are you unwell?’ John asked Ursula when they were out for their usual Sunday morning walk.

‘You barely touched your meal yesterday evening. I don’t think you’ve eaten a proper dinner all week.

’ Nothing got past him and it could be both a blessing and a curse.

‘I’m experiencing a prolonged episode of indigestion,’ she lied.

‘Some foods seem to make it worse. I’m going to speak to Isobel and see if we can change the meals a little.

’

He frowned. ‘This is how Louise’s illness began.

She lost her appetite.

Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?

’

‘Definitely not. I expect it will pass in a few days.’ Ursula linked arms with John, not caring what anyone might think.

‘Could you remind me how much you pay Isobel? I couldn’t find the details in the household ledgers.

’

‘Eight shillings and sixpence a week. It used to be seven shillings and ninepence, which is just over twenty pounds a year. But after Louise died I decided to increase it because Isobel was taking on more responsibility than before, and I didn’t want her to leave us.

’

‘So that’s how much a year?

’

‘A shade over twenty-two pounds.’ He smiled.

‘I think she was rather surprised, but I was glad to do it. We really would not have managed without her. Why do you ask?’

Ursula stepped to one side to avoid a puddle.

‘I read something earlier in the week about wages, that’s all.

Nothing with which you need to concern yourself.

’

*

Rather than ringing the call bell from the drawing room to summon Isobel and interrupting her work, Ursula walked the few steps across the hall into the warm kitchen.

‘I think I need your help, Isobel. I am in somewhat of a quandary.’

‘Of course, if there is anything I can do, I will, Mrs Black.’

Ursula sat down at the table and pointed to the other chair.

‘Come and sit with me for a minute.’ She put a piece of folded paper on the table beside the teapot.

‘There is a café on Nicolson Street which I’ve visited a few times now, and I like the food they serve there.

’

Isobel nodded. ‘And you would like to try some of their ideas?’

‘I would. There is one problem, though.’ She looked out of the window at the wintry sky for a moment.

‘The food is vegetarian. There is no meat or fish in the meals.’

‘None at all?’

‘None at all,’ Ursula echoed.

‘But I like it, and the more time I spend there, the more I have struggled to eat our meals. I push the meat around the plate and .?.?.’

‘I’ve noticed,’ Isobel said quietly.

She didn’t want to appear cheeky.

‘I know I’m not explaining properly what the problem is.

’ Ursula sighed. ‘The truth is, I don’t really understand it myself.

’

Isobel twisted the long ties on her apron around her fingers.

‘I thought my cooking was displeasing you for some reason.’

‘Not at all.’ Ursula thought of the posters on the walls of Café Vegetaria.

‘Over the last few weeks, since I have been going to the café, I have begun to think of us as more of a team, Isobel.’

‘A team?’

‘Yes. We work together to run the house.’ Ursula found herself deliberately ignoring the views of her mother, who had always insisted on a certain distance between staff and family.

‘I know that I’m your employer, but it seems to me that things are changing in the world.

’

Isobel risked a smile.

‘I think I might like to be part of a team,’ she said carefully.

Ursula pushed on without really listening.

‘But now there is the meat question, and I can’t bring myself to bring the fork to my mouth.

I don’t know what to do about it.

’

Isobel trod her way cautiously through this new way of thinking.

‘I wonder what Mr Black thinks?’

‘He has noticed. He notices everything. It’s his way.

I told him that meat gives me indigestion and he has accepted that, for now.

But we,’ she slipped into using the new signifier without noticing, ‘well, we need to do a bit of thinking, Isobel. I know we do some of the cooking together now, but I’m going to need your assistance with this.

I don’t want to change what the rest of the family eats.

’ She stopped for a moment.

‘At least not yet.’

‘Are you wanting your food to look like their food, but without the meat?’

‘That’s exactly it.

I’ve copied down some of the dishes from the menu.

The place is called Café Vegetaria, which is a rather pretty name, I think.

’ She unfolded the piece of paper and pushed it across the table.

Isobel leaned forward to study the words.

‘Leek and barley soup,’ she read out loud.

‘Broth. Vegetable pie. Carrot and beet crumble with herbs. Nut roast with gravy. Cheese soufflé. Macaroni with Italian sauce.’ She looked up.

‘None of that looks very complicated, except maybe the nut roast. And I’ve never made an Italian sauce.

’

‘I’ve been thinking it may be a bit tedious if all we have is soups and pies.

’

‘That’s true.’ Isobel tried out the new role which had been thrust upon her.

‘I don’t think it will be too difficult, not if we make a plan.

’

Ursula could feel the strain easing.

Being in charge of the meals was a chore; it was necessary, but definitely not her favourite occupation.

She would much rather be reading a book, or sitting in Café Vegetaria listening to the conversations and fresh opinions which swirled around her there.

Isobel opened the small drawer below the tabletop and took out a sheet of paper with a notice printed on one side.

She turned the paper over.

‘We can keep it simple for the next wee while and see how it goes.’ She licked the tip of the pencil and started to write, thinking aloud as she added things to the list. ‘Everyone likes a proper pie with a good pastry crust. If I do that twice there won’t be any complaints.

I’m sure I can find something different from beef or mutton for yours and with any luck no one will notice.

’ She tapped her forehead with the blunt end of the pencil.

‘Macaroni once. Cottage pie with mash on top. I would need to think about what could be a substitute for the escalopes. Perhaps I could make a risotto? One of my friends is in a house where the grandmother is Italian. She’s always talking about making a big flat round bread with tomatoes and cheese and anchovies on it.

We could leave the anchovies off for you, of course.

I don’t suppose this place has a recipe book?

It wouldn’t help their trade.

’

‘I don’t know, but James Thin is just over the road.

I’m going back to the café tomorrow.

I’ll ask the server if he has any suggestions.

’

‘I’ll keep this list in my pocket for now.

I know Mr Black doesn’t often come into the kitchen, but Miss Ann does, and she’s very inquisitive.

’

‘She is indeed.’ Ursula pointed at the paper.

‘Is that an advertisement for the theatre?’

Isobel nodded.

‘The Great Lafayette is coming to town. I don’t fancy it myself, far too noisy for me, but Miss Ann gave me the notice anyway.

She hasn’t stopped talking about it for weeks.

’ She pushed her chair back from the table.

‘I’ll make a pie for this evening.

In fact, if I make individual pies for everyone it won’t be much extra work and it’ll be less obvious.

’ She turned and lifted the coal scuttle to slide another rush of fuel onto the grate.

‘I just need to fire the oven a bit so it’s hot enough for a nice pastry crust.’

They looked at one another across the kitchen, each aware that their relationship had shifted slightly, and neither of them was sure that she wanted it to go back to how it had been before.